IchixIshi Drabbles
by Sephielya J. Maxwell
Summary: Drabbles with song titles for prompts, will be added on to.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Drabbles of at least 100 words, using song titles and themes as bases.

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-Say it Right-

"So, what are we?" Ichigo asked one early morning as Ishida slid out from under the blankets of his bed. The raven-haired Quincy turned his head, slipping his glasses into place. His blue eyes hid behind them, and he moved them in search of his boxers on the floor.

"What do you mean, 'what are we'?" He asked with ridicule in his voice. It was still dark; a quick glance to the clock told the orange haired boy that it was still only four am. So, Uryuu wanted to get home and shower before school. Going in together would be a no, of course. Someone would notice. And then there would be the questions... And with no answer, that would make it impossible to respond.

"Don't give me that crap." Ichigo sat up, crooking one knee up. The sheets fell to his waist, revealing his toned body. It caught the corner of Ishida's vision, temporarily distracting him from his boxer-seeking quest. Wide shoulders, strong arms, rigid chest and stomach... It was nothing like his own slender physique. Oh sure, Ishida was in top form. But he was built for speed and agility, not strength. But still, they both bore the marks of their respective skills on their chests, just over their hearts. "You know what I mean. What do I mean to you?" Ichigo's voice snapped him out of his reverie. But Ishida's eyes were on the scar on Ichigo's chest. His voice was cold.

"...Nothing at all, Shinigami." He said, standing up and snatching his boxers from the floor. The only thing that kept him from shouting in protest as his wrist was grabbed and his body was pulled back onto the bed was the knowledge that it would wake the house's other occupants. The last thing that they needed was for little Yuzu and Karin to come in and see them... "Kurosaki--!" His hiss was cut off by a kiss. He gave a half-hearted struggle, but his wrists were pinned beside his head. When it broke, his glasses and hair were astray, and they were both panting.

"I didn't... ask you... about that part of me. I asked you... what Ichigo meant to you..." Ichigo said honestly, his brown eyes half-lidded. He had the very same expression as if he was trying to stare down his strongest enemy in battle. The Quincy couldn't keep his standards. He wiggled his wrists, and the other released them. Long graceful fingers entwined with the Shinigami's own. He squeezed them in return.

"Well, _he... _makes me feel..." Lips closed over one another. It looked like they would be going to school together, after all...

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-What Becomes of Us?-

It was something that they asked themselves before every battle. Every little thought, no matter how paranoid and far fetched became a reality. Something completely possible.

Ishida Uryuu had nothing to return to. It would probably take his father weeks to discover that he was even missing. Even he had to admit that it was partially his fault, living alone without contact for so long. Still, he couldn't face the man that could watch as innocent souls were devoured by Hollows. The man that had let his own father die, leaving him to the mercy of the Shinigami who never came... He fought alone, for his own stubborn pride and dignity. For those who couldn't fight for themselves.

Kurosaki Ichigo had everything to return to. His sisters and his father. He had friends at school that missed him every day that he was absent. Even if they were a pain sometimes, he wouldn't trade them for anything. Instead, they became the reason that he fought. His friends and loved ones, he couldn't bear to see anything happen to them. For them, he would gladly stand on the front line, using his body if need be, to shield them.

It was all understood; accepted by those around them and themselves. Until things had changed they believed it to be all that was. That each of them had their own sense of self, and home.

It took a lot of courage to watch the rash, thick-headed, overconfident and foolhardy orange-haired substitute-Shinigami run head first into another fight. Thinking what bandages he would be wrapping this time, and scolding him for using his head to block again. The numbing fear that he might not come back at all.

It took just as much restraint to watch the stubborn, prideful, and too-careful raven-haired Quincy go in the other direction to do his part. How much would he let himself get hurt before he figured out his tactic this time? Would his fingertips bleed from the unforgiving strings of his bow, just to insist on doctoring himself again? And the paralyzing fear that he wouldn't be there when he was really needed.

Their fears were unfounded in the end, as they learned each time they saw each others faces after another fight. Ichigo's confident smile, and Ishida's stoic expression as he adjusted his glasses. They had thought home was that empty and lonely apartment, and that noisy house full of family. But they were wrong.

Home was warmth, the kind that they only felt at the end of the day when they both gave in. This was the answer they had come to, after so many unspoken words. Ishida no longer dreaded what he was, or being alone. And Ichigo never felt more at home then when the guarded Quincy allowed himself to be held by him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Vexed and Glorious**

Ishida was slow to wake, stirring slightly before he even tried to open his eyes. His awareness came even slower. One solid arm around his waist, breath tickling his neck. He could hear each one taken in, and feel the warm gust of air as he exhaled. Blue eyes opening at last, he was surprised to see how light it was. Frowning, he reached blindly for his glasses, hand slapping down on his bedside table a few times before he found them. Sitting up slightly and slipping them on, he glanced to the clock.

At which time Ichigo was promptly awakened by a hard knock to the head, followed by an irritated voice. "Kurosaki, do you know what time it is?"

"Mnn, what? Geez, Ishida..." The orange-haired teen rubbed his head, blinking his tired brown eyes. He smiled when he saw the Quincy's flushed face, hair still mussed from sleep, but blue eyes already shining with mirth. He blocked the second hit, chuckling as he glanced to the clock. "It's 10am."

"I set the alarm for eight! Eight! Did you turn it off?" Ishida demanded, still glaring.

"Guilty."

"Wha... why? I had everything planned! We were supposed to wake up and shower, eat breakfast, finish our long over-due homework, go to Jun's Place for lunch, head to the..."

"Wait, wait, wait. Having everything planned out like that... That's no fun. Wouldn't you rather just... let it happen?"

"Let it..." Ishida closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sat cross-legged on the bed. "You're... impossible. We don't get very many chances to spend the day together, so I just..." He looked back down. Ichigo was still smiling. "...What?" He snapped.

"You look so cute like that." Ichigo admitted. Ishida rose an eyebrow.

"Like... what?"

"All pissed off and naked." The other's expression was enough of a warning for Ichigo to cover his head from the pillow heading his way. He laughed as he grabbed the raven-haired teen around the waist. The resulting struggle toppled them both from the bed, both teens freezing in a moment of dulled pain. Ishida huffed when he realized he was held tight against Ichigo's chest, the substitute Shinigami having opted to take the brunt of the fall for them, his back to the floor. "Ow ow, don't move yet..." Ichigo complained when the other went to sit up, and Uryuu froze again. "Just... hear me out."

"On the floor?"

"Yeah!"

"...Fine." Ishida huffed again, his head tucked under the orange-haired teen's chin, his glasses missing. If they were broken...

"It doesn't matter what we do today. I mean... we're together, right? All day. I wanted to sleep a little longer because you looked tired last night, but you let me do it anyway—"

"D-Don't be stupid..."

"What are you always so pissed for? You're the impossible one." Ichigo teased, running his fingers through the Quincy's hair. Ishida winced, feeling regret for a brief moment. It was true, he was more often than not angry over something... and he snapped a lot, complained, or bickered...

"...Sorry." He said quietly. Ichigo tugged his bangs.

"It's alright. I wasn't lying. You do look hot when you're mad. Makes me want to—_oof_!" He was cut off by the elbow in his gut that allowed Ishida to roll off of him, snatching up his missing glasses and slipping them on as he stood.

"I was right. You _are_ the hopeless one." He said, heading for the door of his bedroom. He stopped for a moment, looking back. Ichigo's eyes were on his lover's naked profile. "...If you're not in the bathroom in the next sixty seconds, I'm taking a shower alone."

Thirty second later, they were both under the spray of hot water. However, schedule tossed out the proverbial window, Ishida had decided that they had time to let Ichigo finish that sentence...

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**In the Cold Light**

The sunlight roused the sleeping Quincy gently. It was bright, forcing him to close his blue eyes just as soon as he had opened them. He rolled to face the ceiling, the back of his slender hand over them as if to shield them. What time was it...? Turning his face to the right, the glaring red numbers told him that it was 5:15am. Digital... He frowned at the clock. It was so... precise. And he'd woken thirty minuets early. The light on his face was bright, but the air inside of his apartment was cold, stealing its comfort. His father always loved digital. It was to the minuet after all. He would never be late for work.

Oh, there was that knot again. He rolled to his right, arms around his stomach. But the cold sun just kept on shining, and if he rose to close the shades then he would be awake anyway. Frustrated, he pulled back the sheets and slipped his feet over the sides of the bed. Shivering as bare skin touched the cold floor, he stood up and set his hands on the desk. A second of searching found his glasses, and he slipped them on as he stood. Yet another thing he had gotten from that man; this damned eyesight. Damned inconvenient for an archer if you asked him.

The water in his place took forever to heat up, so he washed his face with the cold water instead. Patting it dry, he slipped his glasses back on to look into the mirror. He was unhappy and he couldn't keep it from his expression, but that look... Why was he thinking of this so much today? He caught the top of the mark on his chest in the mirror, reaching up to touch it. Why had he even bothered... Giving him this power and then sending him on his way. It was just like him; like a doctor. "I give them the means. What they do with it is their choice."

His clothing was laid out and folded as usual. What could he do but lose himself in this obsessive compulsive ritual? Perhaps it was just in his blood.

How could he _not _dwell on him, when it was all he had left? He never wanted to admit it, but visiting Kurosaki's household bothered him. Even without their mother his family was so close. Isshin smiled wide and spoke loudly, and Ichigo's sisters talked about their school and friends. And Ichigo... that orange-haired idiot; he complained and avoided them whenever he could, hiding out in his room. Ishida had always thought that his lack of proper family had been the reason for his inability to deal with others. Seeing Ichigo, he knew now that wasn't it.

It was this cold light. The presence of family; the loss of them. Having once felt the same kind of feelings that everyone had and then having it taken away. It was his power. The power to save others and the knowledge that they wouldn't understand. "Being a Quincy doesn't make money." Ryuuken had said. He would never understand. His eyesight was bad, but he wasn't blind. He couldn't close his eyes to the suffering of others.

He thought of the others that had lost their loved ones. Inoue Orihime and her brother, Sado Yatsutora and his grandfather, even Ichigo and his mother. Perhaps it was something that they didn't know instead of something that he was missing. Family without warmth.

Setting the dishes from breakfast into the sink, he glanced at the clock again. Digital didn't lie, and he was going to be late if he didn't rush. So much for waking early, he'd spent to much time on this reflection! Grabbing his bag, he rushed out of the door.

"...hida."

Ishida was breathing hard as he reached the school, slipping of his shoes to change them. He set his bag down, opening his locker.

"Oi, Ishida!" The loud voice reached him. Turning his head he beheld the flush-faced, orange-haired substitute Shinigami. He was about to frown when he noticed what was around the other teen's neck. A white scarf. That's right, it was fall wasn't it? "What the hell, didn't you hear me?" Ichigo was saying.

"Ah. What?" The Quincy looked back to those brown eyes.

"I was calling you halfway down the street! Did I do something again?" Ichigo dropped his bag none too gently, opening his locker as well.

"Oh, no. I didn't hear you." Ishida said as he slipped on his school shoes, placing his others into the locker.

"Well it's rare that you're late. You wouldn't believe..." Ichigo muttered as he changed his own, "My dad up and jumped me again, and we ran into Yuzu who was carrying orange juice. I had to go and wash it off and it's cold as hell out there!"

"So... you grabbed the scarf?" Ishida asked, his own face coloring slightly, and with more than just cold.

"Well yeah. I mean, did you not want me to wear it?" Ichigo asked, closing his locker.

"No, no. I just..." _Didn't think you'd wear it_. The Quincy adjusted his glasses. Ichigo frowned even more than usual as he approached the raven-haired teen. He slapped both hands onto the other's cheeks, ignoring Ishida's noise of protest.

"I thought so. You're freakin' freezing!" He exclaimed, holding his face still.

"K-Kurosa—!" Uryuu's hands rose to grab the other's wrists. He paused however, when he realized just how warm those hands were. They penetrated the cold skin of his cheeks, flooding them with warmth like the morning sun should have.

"Don't go making me things that you need yourself!" The substitute Shinigami was muttering, and he removed those hands of his. The warmth stayed however, and he felt as if it radiated from the places that Ichigo had touched. The scarf was around his neck in the next moment, and it too carried with it warmth. "Don't argue. You're skinny as hell, so if you don't wear more then you'll freeze to death. I'm hot-headed, remember? You can give it to me again when you take better care of yourself." As he finished speaking the bell rang, and the last trickle of students vanished from the halls. Ichigo turned to go, waving with one hand. "Come on."

The material of the scarf was warm against his neck, and Ishida felt the end of it between his fingers. He'd taken a month to make it just right. Nothing but cold needles and soft fabric, it was as if Ichigo had given it life with that over-flowing power of his. To think, something that came out of his cold light had been infused with this kind of warmth. Maybe... If he tried, he could let the same happen to him. "Hey, you alright?" Ichigo asked when he didn't respond or follow. Ishida looked back up, smiling as he dropped the end of the scarf to adjust his glasses.

"I'm fine. Are you still coming home with me after school?" He asked in his normal tone.

"Yeah, but we're going to be late now so we might have dententi—" He froze as Ishida's cool lips pressed against his. Brown eyes wide, he merely stared in shock as the other brushed past him. By the time he caught up with the other, that small smile told him that it wasn't likely that he was going to get an explanation. "How cold." He said with a grin as they reached the door to their homeroom. Ishida's smile increased as he laid his hand on the door.

"Not for long."


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